


Blood Pact

by gracelessAesthetic



Series: The Bad Medicine Collection [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Moicy, Vampire/Witch AU, victorian au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-05 10:20:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17916914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracelessAesthetic/pseuds/gracelessAesthetic
Summary: As a vampire, Moira hasn't exactly met with many challenges over the centuries.  Humans are powerless before her kind, and she carries this thought with her one night in London in the 19th century as she seeks her meal.  The night begins like so many others, but takes a turn when she encounters an unusual young woman in a nameless pub on the seedy dockside.  Making the decision to take this woman for her prey, she soon finds herself in for more than she bargained for when the woman proves to be much more than she seems.





	1. Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Playing Overwatch with a bunch of other queer ladies all the time leads to much thirsting for half the cast, and during a skirmish one day I said, "Man, Moira really needs a vampire skin." and this idea quickly spitballed from there and now I have a short fic going. It was originally just going to be a one-shot but when I hit 8 pages before the fun even began I realized I was going to have to divide it up a bit. So! It's short, and will all be uploaded fairly quickly. Hope you enjoy this little AU as much as I do!

Gaslight burned dimly atop an iron post, the cobbled street awash with its warm golden glow.  Clutching her cane firmly, Moira O’Deorain pulled her top hat lower as she passed by, for although she had seen no one about for nearly a quarter of an hour, she would take no chances.  Of course, logically, she had nothing to fear. London was a very large city, much larger and more populated than the villages of her home country. There was no reason for anyone to pay her any particular mind, and even if they did, it would be an easy matter to disappear.  Well, perhaps they had _some_ reason, were they to take a good look at her and realize she was a woman, but she took good measures to hide that fact.  It was easy, really. Humans did not see what they did not want to see, after all, and most were not willing to accept a woman like her.  No matter. It simply made things easier for her.

Slipping into the shadows between lamps, Moira paused to take in her surroundings.  She knew what she was looking for, what she needed. It was always the same. Predictable.  Boring. She sighed to herself as she envisioned how the night would play out. She would head towards the docks, find a tavern that catered to the underbelly of the city, and find a man so into his cups that luring him outside would take little more than a crook of the finger.  Take him to a dark aly, drain him dry, and give his corpse to the fishes of the Thames. The motions were practically mechanical, a necessary act of survival, and yet there was no _pleasure_ in it, no thrill.  The men she took were pathetic, weak, easily manipulated into doing whatever she asked of them.  She had the power of hypnosis and yet she barely had to rely on it. The merest nudge was enough.  Of course, she could always give herself a challenge, choose a target who would force her to use a bit more cunning.  And it was tempting, too, especially in a large city such as this one, but Moira was nothing if not practical, and her own survival was her top priority.  She hadn’t lived for over five centuries by being careless, and humans were advancing. Individually, they were nothing, but when it came to numbers? And their modern firearms might prove to be a problem if they actually did manage to track her down.  No, anonymity was her greatest asset, and as long as she stuck to her usual pattern, no one would even know there was danger lurking in the shadows. No one missed the men she took.

The night was still fairly young by the time she reached her destination.  It had been over fifty years since she’d last been to London, and the city had grown in that time, but the river hadn’t changed.  All she had to do was follow it to find what she was looking for.

She quickly spotted a promising location, a dank tavern whose sign had long since rotted away, its dark wooden door hanging on loose hinges.  As she approached, she took note of the fires burning some ways off, closer to the water’s edge. The men and women huddled around them would give her no trouble, but she preferred to avoid as much unnecessary contact as possible.  Placing a hand on the door, she was startled to hear lively murmerings from the other side. Usually, places such as these were quiet, solemn. Their typical patrons were at the bottom of the barrel of life, and had little reason for cheerfulness.  She had not expected to find such life, and for a moment she hesitated. Would she face any obstacles? Shaking her head, she chided herself for allowing doubt, and pushed open the door.

The men inside were indeed the exact type she had expected to find: dirty, ragged, a hollowness under their eyes, but unlike what she was used to, these men were not sitting quietly to themselves, and it did not take long to find the reason.  Sitting at a table in the center, where all the men had gathered, was one of the most beautiful women Moira had ever seen. Her blond hair was pulled back loosely, unbraided, and her full white gown stopped just below her collarbone, a style Moira knew would be considered most improper in more refined company.  It took her several long moments before she realized she had stopped breathing: she didn’t have to, but it was a facade she maintained for the sake of humans and she beratted herself for being so easily distracted. Of course, not one person in the tavern had even glanced at her when she walked in. The woman’s beauty was stunning, but what astounded Moira even more was how studiously she was ignoring her admirers.  She briefly wondered how the woman managed before she took note of the book held open in her hand. The woman’s gaze was trained on its pages; it was if the room and its occupants simply didn’t exist.

Moira was utterly fascinated.  Everything about this woman was unusual and puzzling.  Dressed like a harlot yet ignoring every man around her, she had chosen to occupy a seedy pub simply to _read_ ?  Who _was_ this woman?  Shaking her head in disbelief, she made her way to the counter and ordered a whisky after a few frustrating attempts to get the bartender’s attention, for he too was captivated by the mysterious occupant.  Finding an empty table was easy, for most everyone else had abandoned their seats. Taking up residence in a lone corner, Moira glowered into her glass. This unexpected turn of events was certainly going to make her plans more difficult.  She would have to call much more attention to herself than she was comfortable with if she hoped to get one of the men outside. Her irritation was quickly directed at the woman. Why she had chosen here of all places was beyond Moira’s comprehension, but her presence was ruining everything.  Still quietly fuming, she failed to notice the shadow that had crossed her table until a quiet cough pulled her from her thoughts. Snapping her head around, ready to bark at whoever had disturbed her, she found her words catch in her throat at the sight of none other than the woman herself.

“I am sorry to disturb you,” she said, and Moira was surprised to hear not an English accent, but something from the continent.  Germanic, perhaps, or Swiss. “I was merely surprised to see another woman here besides myself.”

Moira’s eyes widened.  It was incredibly rare for anyone to see through her disguise so easily, and once again she found herself wondering who on Earth this stranger could possibly be.  “How perceptive of you, especially since you seemed so absorbed in your reading when I walked in. You certainly weren’t paying any attention to your… admirers.” She glanced over the woman’s head at the crowd of men, who were keeping a respectable distance yet clearly bewildered by the sudden turn of events.  She clearly detected several flashes of indignation, and it gave her a surprising sense of satisfaction. She returned her attention to her visitor, and in a flash she knew the night was not lost. _A change of pace, indeed._

“You were the only person in the place not clamoring for my attention.  I must admit, I was curious,” she shrugged. “It seems being women is not the only thing we have in common.  I see that you are also a visitor to this country. My name is Angela, by the way.” She did not offer a surname.

“Moira, and you would be right.  No matter where I travel, Ireland will always be home.  So you were playing ignorant with them, then,” she smirked.  Despite herself, she was beginning to like this Angela. She was not like most people, troubling herself with pointless social customs.

“Of course.  How could I not be aware of them, drooling over me like dogs?”

“And yet you chose to come to a place like this.  Did you really expect anything different?”

Angela let a sly smile turn her sculpted lips.  “I know it seems odd, but I had my reasons.” Moira waited, but it did not seem as if she planned on elaborating further.  Ignoring her curiosity, she let the matter drop. It wouldn’t matter in the end. In that moment, Moira decided to take a gamble.  This was not a woman who concerned herself over propriety. Perhaps…

“You wanted nothing to do with their attentions, yet you sought me out.  Did you assume that because I am a woman I would not share in their interest?” she murmured softly, letting her gaze travel slowly down Angela’s neckline before returning with greater intensity to her eyes.  She noted without meaning to that they were an incredible shade of blue.

A faint blush crept into Angela’s cheeks, but she did not appear to be disturbed by the statement.  Moira fought to contain her triumph. Yes, this night would go just as she wanted. The specifics might be different than she had originally intended, but it mattered not.  The end result would be the same. _Perhaps with a bit of extra fun, if I can be patient,_ she thought.

“I must admit, I wondered about your attire.  I assumed you were in disguise for some reason or another, but not… Do you always dress like this, then?”

Without answering, Moira gestured to the stool across from her.  “Please. Have a seat. It seems as if this might turn into a real conversation.  I wouldn’t want you to think me without manners,” she said, putting every ounce of charm into her voice.  Angela sat, folding her hands under her chin and leaning forward. She was clearly about to speak when Moira raised a hand to stop her.

“My apologies, and just when I was trying to assure you I was a gentleman… (Angela smirked at her choice of words)  but we have some unwanted company.” Turning her head, she glared at the crowd that had been slowly inching closer. She let her power seep into her gaze, and she saw the results immediately as the fear made itself plain on their faces.  Without hesitation, they parted, practically stumbling over each other in haste. Some returned to their own seats, while many made a dash for the door. Satisfied, Moira returned her attention to her companion.

“My, that was impressive.  You didn’t say a word to them and yet they scattered like mice.  You shall have to teach me that trick,” Angela said with a small laugh.

“I’m afraid it’s just something that comes naturally to me,” Moira replied.  “Now, by all means, where were we?”

“I believe we were on the verge of discussing your, ah… interests,” Angela said, blushing once more.

“Is that so?  Well, you haven’t run off in horror, so I think it’s safe to say you do not take issue with the notion.”

“As I said earlier, you were the only person not falling over yourself to get my attention.  All you did was make an implication, but you’re not denying now, are you?”

Moira considered her next words.  “No, I am not. And what of yourself, then?  You’re still here. Are you merely curious, or is there another reason for your continued presence?”

Angela looked down at the table and folded her hands in her lap.  A gesture of shyness, unlike anything else she had displayed so far that evening.  Moira could hardly believe her luck. She hadn’t even relied on hypnotic influence yet, although she was prepared to if things took an unwanted turn.  She did not speak, however, as she waited for Angela to answer. She would have to be very careful here. Unorthodox or no, the territory she was venturing into was completely outside anything deemed acceptable, and she and Angela were still practically strangers.  Finally, the other woman looked up and spoke.

“It is not something I had ever dared to truly consider, although the thoughts have… crossed my mind.  But perhaps we should not continue to discuss this. It is…” She trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished.

“Of course.  My apologies.  I did not mean to put you into an uncomfortable situation.  My curiosity got the better of me, and I went too far. I just do not often run across a woman even willing to entertain the idea.  I do hope you will continue to grace me with your company.”

“Oh, most certainly.  Although…” Angela paused, considering.  “Perhaps somewhere less public? I find you to be a very intriguing person, Moira.  Would you care for some tea? My place is not far from here.”

Moira closed her eyes for a brief moment, savoring the easy victory this woman had just handed her.  She was foolish, as all mortals were. Yet of course she could have no way of knowing what fate awaited her, but still, to be so trusting as to invite a total stranger back to her home, alone?  It was more than anything Moira could have hoped for.

“If that is what you desire, by all means, lead the way.”


	2. Exchange

Angela had not been exaggerating when she said she lived close by. She had led them farther away from the river, to a less populated part of town. The walk had taken no more than twenty minutes, and they had encountered no one along the way, much to Moira’s fortune. Angela’s residence turned out to be a small yet pleasant-looking cottage of sorts, not connected to any other buildings. She unlocked the door and gestured for Moira to follow. The entrance was dark, and Moira feigned blindness until Angela lit a sconce that hung on the wall. Moira followed her deeper into the house, and she made note of her choice of decor. Angela seemed to favor a more natural look, with various plants and stones dotting their surroundings. Moira could see nothing that indicated any sort of great wealth, but then again she hadn’t expected to.   
“I appreciate the aesthetic you’ve applied here,” Moira said once they had reached the sitting room, although it seemed to double as a kitchen, for she could see an iron stove in one corner.   
“Thank you,” Angela replied. “I have always had an appreciation for nature, and as London is not exactly the greenest of cities, I wanted to bring a bit of home with me. Many of the plants you see are from Switzerland. Ah, but where are my manners? Allow me to take your things and please, make yourself comfortable. I’ll put a fire on and get you that tea.”  
Moira shrugged off her coat and passed it to her host, along with her hat and cane, and took a seat on the worn brown sofa near the fireplace. She watched in silence as Angela busied herself, and soon a fire was crackling merrily. She allowed herself to get lost in the dancing blaze while Angela retreated into the kitchen portion of the room. Her thoughts drifted to what was to come next, and a part of her was almost sorrowful. She had stumbled across a truly unique individual, and it would be a shame to take that from the world, but no one who knew what she was could live to talk about it. Killing wasn’t necessary to feed, but it was for secrecy. She had tried to deny this at first, back when she had first been changed, but she had long since learned to accept it as part of her life. So absorbed was she in her thoughts that she didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind her, and she nearly jumped when she felt warm hands gently brush the sides of her face and a voice murmur in her ear, “Now, I do believe we had more to discuss, did we not… vampire.”  
Moira whipped her head around, but Angela wasn’t there. Leaping to her feet, every sense on high alert, she turned and found the other woman standing before the fire, and felt her jaw drop at the startling change that had overtaken her. The white dress she had been wearing was gone. In its place was a form hugging black and brown piece that sat even lower on her bosom, the short sleeves hanging in tatters and showing accents of gold. The dress itself hung past her knees, but was slitted to her hips on both sides, revealing bare skin that met with thigh high leather boots. A red capelet was fastened around her neck, and a pointed hat sat atop her head. Her demeanor had changed, too. The woman before her was in possession of an undeniable power, her posture rigid, her gaze hard as iron.  
“What…,” she started to say, but the right words wouldn’t form. Too many questions all tried to come forth at once. Finally, at little more than a whisper, she breathed, “How did you know what I am?”  
Angela glanced down at herself before once again meeting Moira’s eyes. “It is a bit dramatic, I suppose, but you cannot begrudge me a bit of fun. After all, that is what you were hunting for tonight, was it not?”  
“Do not play games. Answer my question,” Moira demanded, finding her strength.  
“Have you no patience, my friend? Ah, very well. I can see I have caught you off guard, and I suppose you’re not used to that. Do sit back down, and I will explain.”  
“I think I would prefer to stand,” Moira practically spat, aware that she was desperately trying to hold onto any means of control and quickly failing.   
Angela shrugged. “Sit, stand, it matters not. Now, surely you know by now what I am? I was a bit concerned that my decorations would give me away, but your arrogance blinded you.”  
“Witch,” she hissed, understanding quickly dawning on her. She cursed herself, for she had been arrogant. The signs were so obvious now, but it had been so long since Moira had encountered a witch that she had not once considered it. “What do you want?”  
“Ironically, the same as you. Blood, of course,” she added, seeing Moira’s puzzled expression.  
“What on Earth do you want my blood for? I have never heard of a witch drinking blood.”  
“Oh, not to drink, my foolish vampire. At least, not directly. But vampiric blood has powerful magical properties, and as I’m sure you can imagine, it is incredibly difficult to obtain. Fortunately for me, I knew one of your kind was in the city. My magic allowed me to detect your presence, but not your exact location. But your kind are just so predictable. I knew the kind of place you’d be likely be headed to. All I had to do was wait. Never did I imagine that you would come to me on my first night! I was prepared to wait for days, if not weeks, but luck was in my favor, and you walked right in. Of course, I wasn’t sure exactly what kind of person you would be, what kind of persona I would have to assume to get you to come home with me, to choose me over anyone else in the bar, but you gave me my answer rather quickly. Seduction, as you know, is a powerful weapon.”  
Moira inhaled, hating that this woman, this witch, had used her own game against her. Anger flooded her veins, and she let out a deep growl. “Do you really think you’ll get what you want? Do you have any idea what you’re dealing with? Or did you think overpowering a vampire would be a simple matter?”  
Angela stepped closer. “No, I think it is you who doesn’t know what you’re up against.” She snapped her fingers, and instantly Moira found herself thrown back into the sofa. She started to rise but Angela was already standing above her, pressing down on her shoulders with surprising strength. “You must appreciate the irony, yes? You came here with me, thinking you had yourself easy prey. Didn’t you think it was a little too easy?”  
Moira’s head was swimming, and she actually felt panic start to well up. Furious, she pushed it away. She was not about to lose this fight. Fangs descending to their full length, she grabbed Angela’s wrists and pried them off her, pulling Angela off balance. Yanking her close, she snarled. “I hope you realize what a foolish mistake you have made.”  
To her surprise, Angela’s expression didn’t waver. Either she was an incredible actress, or she truly did believe she still had the upper hand. “You are in my house, vampire, and here my magic is more powerful than any brute force you can muster. But do not worry. Neither of us has to die tonight, if you listen to everything I say.”  
Moira faltered at that, just for a moment. The witch’s words had been unexpected. Recovering, she hissed, “You don’t seem to be in any position to negotiate. I could kill you now before you even had the chance to blink.”  
“There’s that arrogance again. When will you learn?” Angela sneered, and Moira was once again thrown back, her arms pinned to her sides, although not by anything visible. Try as she might, she could not move them. “There, much better. Now,” she said as she leaned in close once again, “you are going to listen to me, if you have any sense. If you try anything stupid again I will kill you. Understood?”  
Moira snarled, baring her teeth, but, after trying and failing once again to break her invisible bonds, gave the slightest nod.  
“Excellent. I have a proposition for you, vampire. We both have something the other needs. I do not need much blood for the magic I have planned. Certainly nowhere near enough to do you real harm, and I know for a fact that you don’t have to kill to feed. What do you say to an… even exchange, if you will? Blood for blood, no one dies. And do keep in mind that I am offering you this out of pure generosity. As you know by now, you cannot hope to overpower me. What do you say?”  
Moira’s first instinct was to decline, but what would she gain by that? A brief retention of her pride before an inevitable death? Not worth it, and she knew it. Still, it was almost more than she could stomach. Not once since she had been turned had she been bested like this, outwitted in her own hunt and in turn become the prey. The victim. It was not a feeling she enjoyed in the least, and it would be the last time she ever felt this way if she had anything to say about. But in order for that to become reality, she first had to get out of her current situation, and she could see only one way.  
“Fine. Now, will you release me?” she growled.   
“I suppose so, at least for now. I do need access to your hand, after all, but do behave yourself and stay put while I make the preparations.”   
Immediately, Moira felt control return to her. Rubbing her hands down her arms, she had to fight the urge to wrap her hands around the witch’s neck. She would not make the same mistake again. Better to get on with it so she could put this disastrous night behind her.  
Angela made her way to a wooden cupboard against the wall, and Moira stood, every muscle in her body tense, while Angela worked. She craned her neck to try and get a glimpse of whatever it was the witch was doing, but her back was turned and Moira wouldn’t be able to see without making it obvious. “Are you going to tell me what it is exactly that you want my blood for?” she finally said, partially out of curiosity, mostly just to break the uncomfortable silence.  
“Does it really matter? It isn’t going to change our deal, after all.”  
“I suppose not, but I would still like to know. It is my blood, after all, and it is not something I part with willingly,” Moira replied scathingly.  
“Hm. I can’t see any harm in telling you. It’s not as if you can go around town spreading the word.” Moira could practically hear the smirk in her voice. “There is a legend that, when prepared correctly, the blood of your kind can grant immortality to another without Turning them. It is an incredibly difficult process, and if even a fraction of the spell is off, the consequences would be… unpleasant, to say the least.”  
Moira felt her eyebrows raise. “I have never heard of such a spell. If it were true, why haven’t your kind come after mine more often? Immortality is one of the most sought-after gifts, after all.”  
“Didn’t you hear me? I told you, it is only a legend. Many doubt its validity, and even those who do give credit to it do not consider it worth the risk. Obtaining the blood alone is challenge enough. Well, for most,” she chuckled. Moira let a growl slip past her lips, but otherwise said nothing.   
“Fine. But why then did you take the risk? Do you really desire immortality so much? You could always just become a vampire.”  
“Bah, and be bound to the night and a never-ending thirst?” Angela scoffed. “I think not. And besides, I am not desperate for eternal life.”  
“Then why do it?” Moira repeated, truly curious now despite herself.  
“Because I want to know if it can indeed be done.”  
Moira waited, expecting more, but Angela gave nothing. “You mean to tell me that you’ve gone through all this trouble… just to see if you could?” She had thought nothing more could surprise her that night. Clearly, she had been very wrong.  
“Knowledge is true power, after all. And if it does work, then immortality will grant me access to further knowledge still, for I will be able to see everything that humanity achieves in the decades and centuries ahead of us.”  
Hostility momentarily forgotten, Moira inquired, “And if it fails?”  
Angela paused for several moments before finally responding, her voice low and thoughtful. “Then I will know what the consequences of that failure will be. There are few records of this, and I have searched for a long time to find what I believe to be the correct method. I am aware that failure might lead to my death, but the reward is worth the risk.”  
Moira stood in silence, attempting to process what she had just heard and running into a metaphorical wall. A lust for eternal life, she could understand. Humans, even magical ones, feared death, and yet this woman was fully prepared to stare it in the face simply for the sake of learning. Her earlier assertion still stood: Angela was indeed unlike anyone Moira had ever encountered, and she felt the last of her anger dissipate. She was still gathering her thoughts when Angela approached with with a glass vial and a small, glistening dagger.  
“I suppose you think me insane,” she mused as she passed the vial to Moira.  
A smile turned her lips as she replied. “Perhaps a bit, but I find myself respecting you for it. Seeking knowledge for its own sake is a rare thing indeed. The world would be a far more interesting place if more shared your aspirations.”   
Angela rewarded her with a small smile of her own. “Is that so? Does that mean your reluctance has faded?”  
“It would appear so. But I still expect you to hold up your end of the bargain. I do require feeding this evening.”  
“A deal is a deal, and I do believe things will go much better for us both if we cooperate. Now,” she said firmly, holding up the dagger. “Turn up your palm and have that vial ready.”  
Moira did so, and watched as Angela pressed the tip of the dagger into the soft flesh of her palm, its razor sharp edge kissing her skin as it slid easily across her hand. Moira shivered, and not with pain, as she watched her own blood well up, rich and dark. Doing her best to ignore the new sensations that had arisen, she held the vial under her palm and squeezed, letting the precious liquid drip down until the vial was filled. Passing it back to Angela, she waited for her to stopper it and return it carefully to the cupboard. The witch lingered for a moment, gazing at her prize, before making her way back to Moira. She took Moira’s injured hand in hers and lifted it, gently running her thumb along the cut. Far from causing pain, the touch sent a pleasant tingle along her palm, and Moira watched in fascination as the cut healed before her eyes. Shifting her gaze to Angela’s, she said softly, “You didn’t need to do that. I would have healed shortly on my own.” She was surprised to hear a slight tremble in her voice.  
“It seemed only polite,” Angela whispered, and Moira noted that her voice was also unsteady. She watched as the firelight danced across Angela’s face and reflected in her eyes, serving only to magnify the intensity of her gaze. The witch still hadn’t let go of her hand. “I suppose it’s time for me to honor my end?”  
“Yes,” proved to be the only thing Moira could come up with, and she quickly decided that she was done talking. She didn’t need words for what came next, for it was something she had done with practiced ease more times than she could count. Yet as she reached to unclasp Angela’s capelet, she found herself unexpectedly hesitant. Not at the idea of drinking blood, no, but at the thought of process as a whole. Never did she feed with the intent of leaving her victims alive, so there was never a need to be delicate, to want to withhold as much pain as possible. She was faced with something new, and she wasn’t sure what it meant. Doing her best to ignore her sudden doubts, she brushed aside the dress collar and pressed her lips to the warm skin beneath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fun part is next I promise!!! The... real reason I wrote this. But smut without context or story just isnt fun, at least to me, so y'all got a couple chapters to build to it XD


	3. Ecstasy

Angela's heart had been pounding since the moment she touched the dagger to Moira's palm.  She had been thoroughly enjoying the edge she had had over the vampire from the beginning, but at some point a shift had occurred.  When exactly it happened, she couldn't say for certain. It was subtle, but undeniable, and she felt a slight waver in her control of the situation.  It certainly didn’t help that Moira was disarmingly attractive, with hair like fire and mismatched eyes set in a face made all of angles. She wondered if those eyes were a vampire trait or if she had been born with them, but she wasn't about to break her controlled demeanor to ask.  Of course, standing here now with Moira's hands cupping her throat, it was difficult to retain any sense of composure. Then lips met flesh and small, needle-sharp fangs pierced her neck and it was all she could do not to break entirely. 

Angela had never actually met a vampire before this night, and it wasn't as if she could go into a library and find genuine information on them, so discerning fact from rumor was difficult.  As such, she hadn't known quite what to expect from a vampire bite. She had prepared herself for pain, and there was to an extent, but what she had not expected was the pleasure. She gasped aloud, hands grasping for purchase and finding Moira’s shoulders.  Her grip tightened as a tremor passed through her that left her slightly unsteady. Moira responded by pulling her in closer, her lips never breaking contact. When she finally did release her bite, Angela’s breathing was coming in short, shallow gasps, and a part of her mind noticed that Moira wasn’t any better off. 

“I hope… I didn’t hurt you,” Moira rasped.  “I usually don’t have to worry about that.”

Angela raised her hand to her neck and let the healing magic flow, although it was incredibly difficult to keep her focus.  “No… no, I’m…” She had been about to say ‘fine’, but somehow that wasn’t right. She wasn’t hurt, but she was very far from okay.  She forced herself to meet Moira’s eyes, and the fire in them burned far brighter than the coals behind them. A faint blush colored her pale cheeks and her lips were stained red.  Without thinking, Angela reached up and wiped away the blood with her thumb, letting her fingers linger for a moment before grasping the back of her neck, pulling her down and pressing her lips hungrily to her own.  For a brief moment, she wondered if she had made a terrible mistake, but her fears were quickly alleviated when she felt Moira’s hands clutch her face and return the kiss.

Fingers tangled in hair as their embrace deepened, Angela’s hat falling to the floor,  and her mind went blissfully blank, unaware of anything but the heightened sensations of her own body and the woman who was awakening them.  Every shift, every caress, was felt on a level she hadn’t known was possible. It was as though every nerve in her body was on full alert, and the need for Moira's touch was almost primal.  She reveled in the tremor that passed through her when the vampire trailed her fingers gently over the bare skin of her collar bone, stopping to linger on the swell of her breasts. It had been quite a while since she had last been touched like this.  She hadn't quite realized just how desperately she desired it until now. 

Some part of her mind demanded that she regain a measure of control, and she smiled mischievously against Moira’s lips.  Time to find out just what kind of effect she could have on her. Breaking their kiss, she brushed her lips along Moira’s jawline, tracing a path to her ear and nibbling the lobe, satisfaction welling inside her at the moan she elicited.  Moira was so tall that Angela had had to rely on levitation, but the use of magic gave her a sense of power that the vampire could not take away. Wrapping her legs around Moira’s waist, she once again made use of her powers to force her back onto the couch.  This time, Moira made no complaint, instead responding by kissing her even more fiercely than before, pinching Angela’s lip between her teeth. It was clear that the other woman did not want to surrender control too easily, but Angela wasn’t in the habit of giving in either.  One of them would have to, in the end, and Angela found the uncertain outcome thrilling. 

Straddling Moira’s hips, she leaned forward to tug at the cravat tied around her neck.  It came free with ease, and Angela slowly made her way down her chest and stomach, coming to a halt where shirt tucked into trousers.  She gently caressed the line where fabric met fabric, teasing her fingers just under the waistline, rocking her hips ever so slightly. Moira let out a frustrated growl.

“What are you waiting for?” she breathed, her voice strained.  

Smirking, Angela learned forward to once again nip at her ear.  “Where are your manners?” she whispered. 

“Don’t expect me to beg.”

“Oh, but that’s exactly what you’ll do,” Angela purred.   Reaching out with her magic to lock Moira’s hands together above her head, restricting her movement, she resumed grazing her fingers across Moira’s waist, letting them slide lower before moving out to grasp at the top of her thighs, feeling the muscles tense beneath her.  She slid her hands inward, inching closer and closer but never quite reaching that place between. Moving one hand upwards, she tugged at the fabric of Moira’s shirt and pulled it free, letting her fingers connect with bare skin at last. Moira shuddered beneath her touch and her breathing accelerated, but still she did not speak, did not ask for what Angela was certain she wanted.  But she was close to breaking. It would just take a little more pushing. 

Using both hands now, Angela lifted the hem higher still and bent to press her lips to the exposed stomach.  She trailed her tongue slowly upwards, stopping just below her sternum to suck hard on skin, knowing she had left a mark.  Moira’s groaning was tantalizing, as was the clenching of the hard muscles of her abdomen, and Angela almost let her resolve crumble and take what she wanted right there, but she just managed to hold on.  Surely, any moment now, Moira would succumb…

“Please!” she gasped, and Angela grinned in triumph. 

“There now.  That wasn’t so hard, was it?”  She returned Moira’s movement to her, pulling her shirt over her head as the vampire pushed herself upwards.  Angela quickly tugged her own dress off, and she wore nothing beneath it save her boots. In that instant time seemed to slow down.  She took Moira’s face in her hands, drinking her in, and saw an unexpected tenderness in her unwavering gaze. She froze as the other woman leaned in to kiss her, and there was a gentleness to it that hadn’t been there before.  Angela savored it for several seconds before returning to their earlier passion, running her tongue over Moira’s lips before forcing her head lower. Moira responded by leaving her own trail of kisses along her collarbone. She closed her eyes and gave herself over to the physical sensations.  Hands caressing her breasts as lips moved lower, taking a nipple between them and sucking hard while pinching the other between fingers. Moira gave a few slow flicks of her tongue before moving to the other side, and Angela let out a desperate moan.

“Put those teeth of yours to good use,” she demanded, remembering the intense pleasure of the last bite.  Moira froze, but only for an instant, before sinking her fangs into the top of her breast. Angela’s arousal heightened and she clutched the vampire’s head tightly to her as she drank.  When she broke free, Angela forced herself to stand, pulling Moira up along with her before hooking her fingers under the waistline of her trousers. She knelt, tugging them downwards as she did so, and Moira quickly kicked them aside.  

Running her hands up the length of her legs, Angela grasped her hips as she let her mouth wander up an inner thigh.  She had intended to take her time, make Moira beg a bit more, but her patience had run out. Brushing her nose against the patch of ginger hair between her legs, she felt Moira tremble as her tongue found what she wanted.  Circling over the bud and through folds of pink skin, she felt her mind go numb with intoxication. Moira’s scent, her taste, her very essence overwhelmed her in the most euphoric way possible, and she was more than content to drown in her.  

Angela felt rather than saw as Moira hooked a long leg over her shoulder, pulling her in tight and allowing better access.  Her fingers wound through Angela's hair as she held her in place. Angela worked her tongue more eagerly, switching between broad strokes and precise flicks before pushing in as deep as she could, until Moira's entire body convulsed and she let out a gasping cry.  Gripping her hips tightly, she gave a few more thrusts with her tongue before pulling away. 

Moira seemed on the verge of collapsing, but somehow stayed on her feet, although her legs were visibly shaking.  Dragging the back of her hand slowly across her mouth, Angela rose to her feet and planted a gentle kiss on the vampire's breast. 

“You seem a bit unsteady,” she crooned, taking Moira's hands in her own and walking them back towards the sofa.  Seating herself, she pulled Moira down to kneel before her and guided her head between her legs before surrendering herself over to the other woman.  

There could no doubt that Moira knew what she was doing, and she wasted no time in sinking her fangs into tender flesh, just at the crook of her thigh.  Still drinking, she dragged a long finger along Angela’s exposed sex, slick with desire, teasing at the opening before sliding inside, and Angela inhaled sharply.  She grasped tightly at the fabric of the couch as Moira withdrew her fangs and focused entirely on the slow, deliberate thrusts of her finger, entering the entire length before crooking the tip backwards.  Then a second finger joined, and the thrusting increased in speed. Tongue flicked over as fingers continued to penetrate, and Angela was suddenly aware of her head falling back against the arm of the couch.  Somehow Moira had shifted them so that Angela was on her back without breaking contact. Angela was only partially in control of her own actions as her hips rose and legs wrapped around Moira’s neck and rocked in a desperate need for Moira to go  _ deeper _ when a third finger was added and Angela’s vision shattered into brilliant white as unparalleled waves of pleasure crashed over her.  Coherent thought vanished and there was only her, only Moira, only them.

 

*****

 

Angela wasn’t sure exactly how much time had passed.  A minute, an hour, a week, it made no difference. She lay with her head against Moira’s breast, utterly content for the first time in recent memory.  As structured thought gradually returned, she found herself surprised to detect a heartbeat, strong and steady. Running a finger lazily between freckled breasts, she murmured, “I thought vampires didn’t have beating hearts.”

Moira brushed her lips along the top of her head.  “You have a lot to learn about us,  _ acushla _ .” 

“Then I suppose you’ll have to teach me,” Angela said with a quiet chuckle.  

Tilting her head upwards, Moira kissed her deeply, tenderly, conveying an intense longing without words.  Angela sunk into the embrace, kissing her back with as much desire as she could. When they finally broke apart, Moira ran her fingers through Angela’s tangled hair, a thoughtful look in her eyes.

“If your experiment is a success, my darling, then we’ll have all the time in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eyyyy I did the thing. Hope y'all like it, been a while since I wrote smut.
> 
> I'm planning on a much lengthier Moicy fic soon set in the actual Overwatch universe. Got some research and planning to do but plenty of ideas already so check back soon!


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